By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
One of the great ironies of my life is that I develop, market, and advertise products and services for kids and their families. Funny, right?
The tricky part is that I sometimes worry that I might lose out on a great job because I’m not a parent and am therefore subject to the misconception that I can’t possibly know what I’m talking about. And so I play The Game.
I’ve mastered many of the skills of The Game. I dodge pointed questions about my family makeup. I deflect, I bob and weave, I jump to the next topic. I nod with understanding when colleagues moan about parenting challenges, and I speak with authority about kids and what they want. I’m certain many people assume that I have a houseful of my own. Quite the contrary, but I don’t want a potential client to dismiss me or my input because I’m deemed less experienced.
And here’s what’s interesting: I think part of the reason I am so good at my job is because I don’t have children of my own. Because I don’t have to be responsible for any little guys, I’m better able to play with them, to get down to their level, to talk as equals. I have time and energy to interact with them, to really listen to them and discover how their amazing growing brains work.
I’m always blown away when the ol’ “You don’t understand because you’re not a mom” insult is lobbed my way. It hurts like hell, and I think the person saying it is clueless. I think my unique childfree experiences make me a better auntie, a better friend to humans of all ages, and an insightful and inspired writer.
But I’m also starting to wonder if I’ve become so good at hiding behind the smoke and mirrors of The Game that I’m missing opportunities to open hearts and minds. I’m starting to think that winning will feel a whole lot better when I’m accepted and acknowledged for who I am and all that I bring to the table. I’m thinking that maybe it’s time to rewrite the rules of The Game and start over.
Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is wrapping up her memoir about being a temporary single mommy and how it helped her come to terms with being childfree.
I’m a nanny. Yup.
In my case it’s usually do you want/plan to have kids questions, and it’s complicated. I have fibromyalgia, which means if I have to work and possibly even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have the energy to parent nearly as well as I like – not that others with it don’t parent well, just knowing myself. I also don’t want any child of mine to inherit that or other things between me and my husband, and adoption when I have health issues/a small condo I’m way underwater on/a husband who’s neutral about kids would be not only expensive but very unlikely. So yes, I love kids, no, I’m not having any, and do I want them is a whole complicated mess boiling down to I always did and still would if life were different but I don’t really know.
I work in child care and get the same thing. I’m always hesitant to let families know I don’t have children. When it does come up I always quickly answer no and try to change the subject. What’s frustrating are those who always assume I want kids and will have them eventually. Then there are the ones who seem so surprised I can even do this job without personal experience of raising my own. Of course I want kids and have been trying for way too long and am trying to come to terms it’s possible I may never have them. Who says people who work with kids have to want their own or would be better/worse if they had their own? Part of me thinks I am great at my job because of my work experience and the fact that I don’t have my own kids gives me the energy a lot of parents don’t have. I don’t have personal experience but I have spent more years and have more experience with children and their development than most new parents.
I agree with you that the fact you don’t have children is an advantage. No business or place of work should be filled with identical people – where’s the different perspective, the alternative view, the ability not to take something personally?
I want to cheer you on, but I do know that “coming out” will be scary. It might be fine, it might be tough – so you need to be ready to take whatever gets thrown at you. If you are ready, that’s brilliant. You might be pleasantly surprised.
In New Zealand we have a service called ‘Plunket’ where a representative will visit new mothers at home to see how they are coping with motherhood and give them help/advise if needed. A friend that recently became a mother (and knows that we can’t have children) was complaining to me how she had been visited by a young girl (in her twenties, my friend is in her mid thirties) that didn’t have kids of her own and therefore shouldn’t be visiting someone older with a baby to give advise. I pointed out to her that this person would have been trained to know what she was doing and that having a child of her own was not a prerequisite to knowledge. A heart surgeon/doctor doesn’t need to have had a heart attack in order to be considered knowledgeable enough to help someone that has. The experience of the event has nothing to do with it.
I do understand how you feel and some people might potentially consider you to be “less knowledgeable” but that would a ply to only a certain percentage of people. As you said, the ability to perform your job so well comes from not having children. Being a mother does not give anyone license to be a great parent. Some mothers, as we all know, are not best suited for the task of bringing up children. It’s almost the same to me as saying that Donald Trump doesn’t know anything about construction because he hasn’t worked as a carpenter on his own projects. I believe that you should stop “hiding” and be who you are.
I have several childless/free friends who are teachers. Some of them have actually had parents (who disagree with them about their precious darling’s school performance) tell them, “what do you know about kids, you don’t have any.” No, they just spend 6-8 hours a day with yours — probably more time than you do, actually. :p I wish you luck, Kathleen!